


Nostalgia

by StarMaamMke



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Nostalgia, Slightly Smutty, hoppers famous time defying silver GTO, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 14:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMaamMke/pseuds/StarMaamMke
Summary: Jane messes up her makeup, Joyce helps her perfect her winged eyeliner game. Jim gets nostalgic.Songs referenced are "All I Could Do Was Cry" by Etta James and "In My Life" by The Beatles.





	Nostalgia

**I would also like to point out to David Harbour (if he is reading) that GTO’s weren’t in production until 1964, which would make Hopper having one in the winter of 1959 a little extraordinary, but ignore that. In this universe, for the purposes of this fic, they existed in 1959.**

* * *

 

“Joyce, help me, it burns!” Jane Hopper ran blindly from the bathroom, one hand covering her eyes while the other groped about, trying to catch the wall for guidance as she made her way into the living room. 

 

Joyce, who had been reading on the couch, quite content to not have to deal with drama for the rest of the night, sprang to her feet at the sight, the little paperback falling to the floor, forgotten as she ran to her stepdaughter’s aid. From the looks of the black, sheer blouse, and the peach, calf-length skirt made of flowing georgette, Joyce surmised that Jane had been preparing herself for a date with Michael Wheeler. 

 

“I can’t see what’s wrong if you don’t move your hand, honey.” Joyce spoke softly, gently pulling Jane’s hand away from her eyes to reveal a racoonish mess of thick, black eyeliner mixed with tears that flowed freely down the teen’s cheeks. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot. 

 

“I wanted to try the eyeliner. I’m good at everything else, and Nancy always wears but it wouldn’t match and it got in my eyes!” Jane moaned as Joyce took a handkerchief from her pocket, wetted one end, and dabbed around the girl’s eyes. 

 

“I’m guessing it was my liquid stuff and not those cheapie pencils?” Joyce inquired, taking Jane’s hand and leading her to the bathroom. 

 

“Yeah, it just looked easier, and the pencils hurt. I almost gave myself a sliver the other day.”

 

“Mmm, well lucky for you, I mastered the cat’s eye way back in high school when I was just Joyce Horowitz. Have a seat.” Joyce waved a hand towards the edge of the tub, and then turned to grab a clean bathroom towel and run it under the tap. After wringing it out, she handed it off to Jane. “Clean that face and we’ll start fresh.”

 

“Okay.”

 

___________

 

Jim Hopper walked through the front door after a long, boring shift at the station. A whole lot of nothing, punctuated by a last minute call about the high school getting hit with eggs and spray paint. At least that had been a little interesting. Still, his back was stiff from sitting behind a desk all day, but at the same time, his legs hurt clear to his waist from running after two punks who had the advantage of bikes.

 

The house was seemingly empty, though the living room light was on. Will was away for the weekend, touring the UIC campus with Lucas Sinclair, and Jonathan wouldn’t be home from NYU until the summer. For a moment, Jim thought that Joyce and Jane might be out for dinner, until he heard the sound of laughter and soft music floating from the bathroom. 

 

_ I heard church bells ringing, _

_ I heard a choir singing. _

_ I saw my love walk down the aisle. _

_ On her finger, he placed a ring, oh, oh… _

 

“You’re going to turn her into a morose teen if you keep making her listen to your sad sack music, Joy-Joy,” Jim observed, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. Joyce was just putting the finishing touches of fuchsia lipgloss on Jane’s mouth, when she paused to grin up at him. His heart gave a little flutter when he noticed his wife sporting the same impressive winged eyeliner that had been her trademark in high school, making her lashes appear impossibly thick. 

 

“You both look stunning. Girl’s night?”

 

The sound of a car horn honking from the driveway, and then way Jane bounded to her feet more than answered Jim’s question. 

 

“I like the kid, but I never sat in the car and honked for Joyce to come outside. Her dad would’ve knocked my block off.”

 

Joyce snorted and shook her head. “My dad was a lamb, Jane, don’t listen to him.” She stood and tucked a strand of hair behind Jane’s ear. “But Jim did come to the door every time, like a gentleman… or someone who was trying really hard to give off that impression.”

 

Jane wrinkled her nose. “That’s old-fashioned. No one does that anymore.”

 

Jim scoffed. “Yeah, common courtesy is for fuddy-duddies.”

 

“So… do I have to wait for him to come to the door or am I free to go?”

 

Jim waved a hand towards the hallway. “Go. But tell Mike that he has to get his oil changed and his tires rotated please. Tell him to go--”

 

“To Rotelli’s and not Yoakem’s, yep.” Jane knew the spiel. Choke ‘em Yoakem loved robbing new, dumb drivers blind, and Rotelli was a relic still around from Jim’s youth, who would still charge Jim’s Youth prices if the chief’s name was dropped. 

 

“Okay, get out of here and be back by 10:30.”

 

Jane stood on her tiptoes to kiss Jim’s bearded cheek before giving Joyce a big hug. “Thanks for the help, Mom.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

Jim stood there, smiling down at Joyce as they waited for the front door to slam shut, for the sound of Mike’s car leaving the driveway before either of them spoke. She was a vision, glancing almost shyly up at him through her eyelashes. 

 

“Awful cute. You did a nice job on the kid too.”

 

Joyce threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, Hop, she looked like Alice Cooper before I got a hold of her.”

 

Jim chuckled at the mental image and pulled Joyce into his arms as a slow song began to play on the radio. 

_ There are places I'll remember _

_ All my life, though some have changed _

_ Some forever, not for better _

_ Some have gone and some remain… _

 

“This one was a little after our time, wasn’t it?” Jim asked as they swayed to the music, Joyce’s cheek pressed against his chest, one hand held by his, against his heart. She smelled like face powder and the really nice perfume he bought her for Christmas, the Dior he always noticed her hoarding from magazines. He realized that must have allowed Jane to use some as well. 

 

“Not really our speed,” she admitted, gasping when he dipped her a bit. “I didn’t know anymore, back when you would’ve had an opinion on the Beatles.” The admittance was bittersweet. He had volunteered for the army almost as soon as he was able, and she had stayed behind, marrying Lonnie because she was pregnant, and staying married after the miscarriage because no one (including herself) expected her to do much else. 

 

“I could take them or leave them. You, on the other hand…” Joyce gave out a little scream as Jim threw her over his shoulder, carrying her out of the bathroom and into the hallway. 

 

“Hopper, what on earth?!”

 

“Kids are more or less gone for the evening, and your pretty eyeliner is making me very nostalgic,” he admitted, walking past their bedroom.

 

“The bed is that way, Hop!” Joyce shrieked as he continued into the living room, towards the front door. 

 

“I said I was feeling nostalgic.”

 

Joyce felt her face grow hot when she realized where they were heading. In the newly built garage, tricked out with all of the whistles and bells that Jim’s mechanically minded desired, was a silver Pontiac GTO. Not the same car Jim had in High School, this new one was a 1964, but the thought was there. 

 

“Have you been rebuilding this car the entire time, just so we could fool around in the backseat?” Joyce teased as he carried her outside. The late afternoon sky was beginning to make the clouds turn pinkish, but there was still plenty of daylight, and it was warm for such an early spring day.

 

“I’m not going to answer that.”

 

Joyce, for the first time in over twenty years, found herself pressed into the backseat of Jim Hopper’s car. At least, this time, Jim was a little better at kissing; there was a serious lack of messy urgency in the leisurely way he explored her mouth, and she definitely enjoyed his new trick of stroking her behind the ear as they kissed, sending delicious sensations down her spine. His other hand was occupied with the soft skin of her stomach, drawing lazy circles their as she arched into his touch and wrapped one leg about his waist in order to create friction between their denim-clad centers. 

 

“I kinda miss your little pencil skirts,” Hopper complained as he trailed his hand up her knee to mid-thigh. 

 

“Ugh, I don’t,” she replied, pulling his attention back to her lips before licking into his mouth with a greedy tongue. 

 

“Mmm, I mean for moments like this,” he sighed, placing one hand over her mound, pressing his middle finger against her most sensitive spot and eliciting a little whimper. “I miss behind able to shove your little skirt over your hips, pull down your panties, and have my wicked way with you,” he murmured against her ear before nipping at the lobe. 

 

“You can still do that, you just have to work harder at it,” Joyce teased, putting a hand between them to squeeze at the growing hardness between his legs. 

 

“Jesus, woman…”

 

After a bit of a struggle (the backseat was not exactly roomy), Jim’s jeans and boxers were down past his ankles, Joyce’s blouse, bra and bottoms were somewhere in the front seat, and she was sitting on his lap, his cock fully sheathed within her as they moved together, fogging up the windows with their labored breathing. 

 

“Ouch!” Joyce exclaimed suddenly, hot pain knifing up her left calf. “Stop, stop, stop…” she whined.

 

“Shit.” Jim stilled his movements, and carefully removed her from his lap, guiding her to lie on her back as she extended her left leg into the air, rotating her ankle and swearing. “You gotta stretch it out, baby.”

 

“Oh, goddamnit, I know what I have to do. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten a leg cramp in the backseat of your stupid car!”


End file.
